Joey Take The Wheel

Eliza stood in the quiet hallway outside the staff lounge, her phone pressed gently to her chest. She had set a timer, not trusting herself to adhere to the conditions of their plan. Just like the other day, they would leave the school independently, enough time between them that nobody would connect the two. Normally patience wasn't an issue for Eliza, but her excitement threatened to overwhelm even her deep well of virtue.

The word she’d whispered was still lingering on her lips, a taste of a new favourite food that she couldn't wait to try again. Master. It had taken every ounce of courage to say it aloud, even in a whisper, even when she knew that the only one who could hear it would be the one it was meant for. Joey. Her Master.

It was an intoxicating concept, giving herself so completely to the young man. He could do what he wanted with her now; take care of her, ignore her, **** her, it was all up to him. Having never before had a relationship where the power dynamic was so rigidly defined, Eliza couldn't wait to see how things would work out. She loved it. Every minute of it. It was, as she'd realized so many times in the past few days, a dream come true.

The hunger in her stomach growled softly, but she ignored it. Having only consumed a half-sandwich from the corner café, the need for food had yet to be sated. But still, she didn't mind. There were more pressing matters at hand. Eliza had always been able to organize her priorities with ease. It was one of the things that had made her successful as a teacher. Get a change of clothes? Sure, but ensure that Joey understood that he was in charge first. Get something to eat? Sure, but make sure that Joey felt loved and supported first.

"I guess we should get you home and get you changed," he had said softly to Eliza before he left the school, before she had revealed his new title to him, "I bet you could use some new clothes."

She couldn't have planned it better. Joey, taking the initiative to take her home, to take care of her needs. And she would make sure that he understood the scope of her needs, how far he was going to have to go.

The quiet alarm on her phone brought her out of her memories and into the present. Enough time had passed that she should be able to safely leave the school. Most of the students had left, but a number of the faculty remained. She smiled and greeted them as she passed, a giddy bubble in her chest as she realized the great secret she held that nobody had even a hint of. She was the keeper of the Truth of Joey's Life. She would guard his secrets fiercely, taking care of her man as he took care of her.

She found him waiting as he said he would, in the shade of a large elm a few blocks from the school. A man of his word. Eliza loved that about him. As he approached the car, she climbed out and handed him the keys.

"Could you take us home?" she asked meekly.

Joey blinked, clearly not expecting the request, "You want me to drive?"

"If that wouldn’t be too much trouble," Her eyes stayed lowered, "I'd feel so much safer that way. And I think I've had enough practice making decisions for a lifetime."

He rubbed the back of his neck, looked uncomfortable, but didn't protest. Instead, he climbed into the driver's seat, moved the seat forward so he could reach the pedals, and turned on the ignition.

A smile found its way onto Eliza's lips as she rounded the car and climbed into the passenger seat. That was her life now. A passenger. Waves of relief washed over her, the stresses of the future, worries of what she would do for money, what the rest of her life would look like. All of that was now gone. Joey was driving. Not just her car, but her life. He would decide what her future would look like. Joey would take care of her.

The ride was quiet. Peaceful. She watched him as he drove, the set of his jaw, the way he glanced at the mirrors. More and more Eliza was seeing a steadiness in him. Gone was the nervous, distracted student she was going to fail. The man sitting next to her was strong, decisive, trustworthy. Her heart was aflutter as she stared at him unnoticed. She had never been so happy in her entire life.

When they reached the apartment—his apartment now—he unlocked the door and stepped inside ahead of her. She waited by the threshold until he looked back and nodded.

"You can come in."

She followed with a quiet, "Thank you."

"Alright," he said once they were in the living room, "First thing's first: you need to change."

"If you don't mind," her heart skipped at how direct he was being, "What would you like me to wear?"

"How about you pick this time?"

"I'd feel so much better if you did it for me," she said, shaking her head, an earnest expression on her face, "I would probably pick the wrong thing."

Joey sighed, muttered something under his breath, and then walked past her to the bedroom. She trailed behind, watching quietly as he opened her—his—dresser drawers. He eventually pulled out a soft lilac sports bra, matching panties, and a cozy set of black leggings with a long-sleeve crop top. Casual. Comfortable.

A small pang of disappointment flickered in her chest. She had hoped for something a little sexier. But maybe comfort was part of his plan. He knew she hadn't eaten. Maybe he was thinking about her feelings, trying to smooth over what he thought was a bad day. He didn't know yet that Eliza was perfectly happy with how the day had unfolded. Failure like that only led to more learning opportunities.

He handed her the clothes.

"I'll be in the kitchen."

She nodded with a smile, "Thank you, sir."

Changing felt like stepping into a new skin. The fabric was soft, warm, comforting after two days in the same tight outfit. She brushed out her hair, letting it fall loose, something she would never have done in front of students. But she wasn't a teacher anymore. She was something else. She was Joey's.

She stepped lightly into the kitchen, the fresh clothes soft against her skin, still warm from her body. Her hair was down now, tumbling past her shoulders in loose, obedient waves. She felt clean, small, and devoted.

Joey wasn't looking at her. He was standing with both cabinet doors open, staring blankly at the sparse contents inside—some pasta, a few cans, rice, oil, spices. She watched him in silence for a moment, quietly in awe of how calm and capable he looked. Her master. Becoming a man.

"I think you'll need to go shopping soon," he muttered.

Eliza clasped her hands in front of her, "Do you think you could take me? I could make a list."

Joey turned.

"Actually... make a list of recipes. Stuff you used to like to make, using what's already here."

"Yes, sir," she said immediately, almost giddy, "I'd love to."

She pulled a pen and notepad from the drawer and sat at the table, focused. She used to make lists for lesson plans, for grading, for unit calendars. Now she made them for Joey. This was so much better. So much more meaningful. She bent her head over the paper, every stroke of the pen driven by pride and purpose.

By the time she finished, she had six recipes listed out neatly, complete with notes on ingredients, cook times, and substitutions.

"All done," she said softly, handing him the list with both hands, like it was sacred.

Joey took it, brows lifting as he scanned the page. "Okay... um. I'll pick... this one for supper," he said, pointing, "And this for breakfast tomorrow. And this one here for lunch after that. And this one... tomorrow's dinner."

He looked at her in the eye, "Is that enough for now?"

She gazed up at him. "Do you think it's enough, sir?"

Joey hesitated, his expression somewhere between amused and confused. "Yeah. I think it's good."

"Then it's perfect," she said, eyes shining, "Thank you. That was so decisive of you," she paused, reached a hand out and touched his chest, "Very manly."

His ears turned pink. "I mean, it's just food."

"But you made the choices," she said, stepping closer. "I didn't have to guess. You saw what needed to be done and you did it. That’s what strong men do."

Joey gave a quiet little laugh and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck again. She loved that. That awkward little gesture of his—it made her feel like she was watching him become someone right before her eyes.

"You don’t have to compliment everything I do, Eliza."

She tilted her head. "But I want to. And it’s not flattery, not really. I’m proud of you. I see what you’re becoming. You’re learning to take control. And that makes me feel so safe."

Joey looked at her again, his expression softer now. He wasn't trying to argue anymore. She could see it in his shoulders—the tension slipping, the resistance fading.

"When you talk like that you make me feel like I'm..." he trailed off.

She waited patiently. Then stepped forward again, her hand sliding down from his chest, taking hold of his hand, "Like you're what, sir?"

"Like I'm someone," he finished. "Like I'm worth something."

Her heart squeezed.

"Master," she said quietly, "You are everything." She reached out with her other hand, now gripping both of his, "I am so sorry that it took me this long to realize it. But my eyes are open now and I can see you for who you are. Who you really are. You're worth my time, my attention. You're worth my affection. You're worth submitting to. You're worth giving everything up for. My job, my home, my pride... I don't miss any of it. Because I have you."

His eyes locked on hers, a look of uncertainty flickering on the surface.

"I used to be so sure of myself. I was going to be a teacher, marry Derek, have some kids, then retire. I never knew how miserable that life was. Until you helped me see," she smiled, and stepped even closer, their bodies pressed up against each other, "And now I'm sure of something else. I’m yours. I was made to help you grow, and it’s the most beautiful thing I've ever done. This life, this new life, is the best thing that could have ever happened to me."

She paused, then, "You're the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Master, I love you."

He didn't say anything for a long moment.

Then finally, he cleared his throat and said, voice a little rough, "Alright, then... I guess, um, you should kiss me."

Eliza's lips parted, a soft breath leaving her.

"Yes, Master," she whispered.

And she did.

Soft and slow. Gentle and certain. Everything in her body surrendering to that one perfect moment. When she pulled back, she was glowing.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Joey just stared at her, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.

She could feel it. The shift. He was starting to see it. Starting to understand.

And when he leaned in and kissed her back, she felt like her life was beginning anew.

And this time it would be so much better.